


Now You See It

by Thia (Jennaria)



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-01
Updated: 2006-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennaria/pseuds/Thia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The delight of stage magic is that it <i>isn't</i> real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now You See It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyphomandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyphomandra/gifts).



> Thanks go to: Kris for beta-reading, my father for teaching me the basics of stage magic, and Cyphomandra for giving me an excuse (finally!) to write this fandom.

 

 

Picture, if you will, a theater. They don't _call_ it a theater any more, of course: now it's the Calhoun Center for Performing Arts, one of those glittering, cutting-edge buildings of mostly glass that politicians fancy make themselves look forward-thinking. In the sunset, all the glass reflects the light so that, from the right angle, the theater glows like a small star.

Edward Levesque wasn't at the right angle.

"Goddammit!"

"Are you all right?"

Edward wiggled his toes carefully. They didn't feel broken. "I'm fine," he said, picking up his end of the cabinet again just as carefully. "Nothing damaged. Come on."

He and Henry brought the old cabinet the rest of the way up the stairs onto the stage, and gently set it down, far enough back that it probably counted as backstage, even if the drop wasn't down to let a man know for certain. Henry rubbed his hands together, then turned to go.

Edward didn't. He couldn't say what caught his eye -- the fading, golden light of the sunset, or the emptiness of the auditorium -- but he paused, and stared out into all those empty seats.

Henry cleared his throat from over by the stage stairs. "My dear boy, as I recall, _you_ were the one concerned over being double-parked."

"I know, I know." Edward shook his head, but couldn't seem to look away from the invisible audience. In this half-light, he could almost picture...well, yes, 'almost' was the key word. Henry, with his vest and carefully groomed toupee, was in the way of any such illusion. "It's all glass," he muttered.

Not quietly enough. Henry sighed and said patiently, "Edward --"

"All this high tech and they don't even have a real backstage space, much less proper wings. I don't know where I'm supposed to prepare. It's not -- why did they ask me?"

"Your car, dear boy," Henry reminded him.

It wasn't an answer, but then again, it wasn't the first time he'd asked Henry the question. It was enough to get him moving, at least. "In a place like this, if they wanted a magician for their gala, it ought to be David Copperfield, not Maskelyne and Devant."

"If you'd rather I refused the offer on your behalf --"

"It's the chance of a lifetime. You _told_ me."

"Because you've been fussing over this for the past two weeks," Henry said, holding the door open for him. "If you're that concerned, you needn't use these old jobbies we're lugging in. I'm sure the budget would stretch to something more...up-to-date in appearance."

Edward glanced over his shoulder at the large black cabinet, sitting there alone on the stage. _Yes,_ he thought about saying. _Yes, I want to update everything, throw out the old and in with the new. I'm sick of fighting the flow of time and trying to explain myself, I'm sick that I'm only here because they wanted an old-time look and I cost less than a proper vaudeville act, I'm sick of holding together inherited gimmicks with duct tape and willpower, I'm sick of working without even an assistant --_ But he didn't. He was short -- shorter than Henry, at least -- dark, and skinny, without the golden god charisma Henry claimed _he'd_ had twenty years ago, only willpower and determination. He'd chosen the 'Maskelyne and Devant' route because an old girlfriend had told him he looked good in a Van Dyke beard and mustache, and because no one else had that sort of act. He kept it because he loved the feeling of stepping back in time when he donned the stiff collar and frock coat and stepped into the spotlight. "No," he said aloud. "No. C'mon, we've got to finish."

It took two more trips, and they had to stop after the first to rummage about for a light switch, which only brought up the guide-lights along the seats in the auditorium, and working lights on the stage. Henry hesitated and looked around for more, but Edward grabbed _his_ chance to say, "The car, Henry," and Henry abandoned the search to follow him back out the door.

Once they'd brought all the boxes of props up onto the stage, Henry stepped back and surveyed the collection. "Excellent. If you wish to begin moving all these to a safer spot, dear boy, I shall go move the car to somewhere less likely to attract the attention of a parking inspector. You already have the key to the --"

"You can take the car all the way home, if you like," Edward said, kneeling down next to one of the boxes. "I'll stay here for a while."

"And how do you propose to get home?"

Edward took three scarves out of the box and laid them over his hand, one by one. "All right," he said absently. "Come back for me in an hour. No, two hours."

"Two hours," Henry repeated. Edward could hear the frown in his voice, but didn't look up to see it. He concentrated on his scarves, and waited until the sound of Henry's retreating footsteps faded away before standing up.

He faced out at the dim auditorium, and bowed to his invisible audience. In two more days, this whole place would be full to the brim, and he, Edward Levesque, must entertain and amaze them. No one before him on the bill, unless you counted the organist they'd hired to play while people came in.

He gestured grandly at his covered hand, then closed it into a fist and tucked the ends in. He brought his fist up, blew on it, then opened his hand to reveal -- nothing.

No. Too close-up, and he couldn't be certain the gala organizers would have a video camera there, to allow the people in the back to see the necessary detail. He needed to start with a bang, something _really_ grand, and then he could do something quieter, build up to an even grander finale. No animals: doves cost too much, and rabbits were too predictable. Chinese rings, perhaps, but those were so difficult to do elegantly. If he had an assistant --

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered, and went back to the boxes.

Bright red juggling balls, for appearing, disappearing, and breaking the laws of gravity. Silk rope. Innumberable decks of playing cards. A small, shiny gun. A few caskets of varying sizes, for things to appear and disappear in. A half-size guillotine without its table.

The cabinet.

First he had to empty it out, carefully: swords, more scarves packed in for balance, another trick casket. He'd inherited the cabinet from his grandfather, who'd inherited from his. Henry kept muttering that someday it would fall apart on-stage, and then where would Edward be, but Henry worried unnecessarily. It would be perfect for his grand finale. Only one problem with the trick: it required an assistant. You couldn't entrust _that_ sort of thing to a randomly chosen volunteer.

Edward gritted his teeth, and dropped the swords on top of one of the boxes, and stared at the cabinet. It felt like the damn thing was mocking him.

 _All right. Once through, for old time's sake._ He still had over an hour before Henry would show up again, with his dry, "You've forgotten the time, dear boy?"

He stood it up properly, careful with the old wood. Then he turned and bowed extravagantly to the auditorium, then swept up one of the swords and gestured his invisible assistant into the cabinet. An evil chuckle here, perhaps. Then -- thrust the sword straight through the cabinet, heart-height! Though perhaps not quite that quickly: it felt like the sword caught on something for a moment. Another sword, a little lower, then a third around knee-height, then a fourth at shoulder-height, and finally a fifth, right at groin level -- that usually got a gasp.

He rose to his feet again, and said to the cabinet, "Feeling all right, my dear?"

His assistant would respond somehow -- a wail, a sigh, begging forgiveness. Something dramatic. He relented, and pulled out the swords in reverse order of how they went in. Then he opened the door with a flourish, and staggered back in feigned dismay: his assistant had vanished! Quickly, close the door again, and -- chalk, chalk, where was the chalk? Ah, there it was, tucked in the corner. Edward quickly drew a sign on the front, a twisted criss-cross, then circled the cabinet, drawing the same sign on all sides. Throw open the door again, and behold, his invisible assistant had returned! He flung out both hands and turned to accept the adulation of the audience --

Someone behind him coughed.

Edward staggered a bit, off balance, and whirled back around. "Who's there?"

A moment, then he saw the young woman in the shadow of the cabinet. She was a short little thing with dark hair, wearing a long dark dress, as if she'd been on her way out somewhere. "I'm sorry," she said, clasping her hands in front of her. "I was just watching you."

Edward folded his arms over his chest and glared at her. "You're not supposed --" Wait. The doors were locked, weren't they? Henry had had to bend heaven and earth to get the key so they could bring in his props. That meant... "Are you theater staff?"

The girl shrugged, and smiled a little. "I'm sorry," she said, then came forward. "Can I help you at all? Do say I can help you."

Help? Like an assistant? "Don't you have other work to do?"

"Not as important as this," she assured him earnestly. "I'd love to help. I know a little about magic. Please?"

Edward hesitated, but only for a moment. "All right," he said, and offered his hand. "Edward Levesque."

She shook it firmly. Her hand was cold: God knew how long she'd been standing there. "Mary Baker."

"Well, then." Edward suspected he was grinning like a fool, but didn't care. "If you have time, maybe we could--"

He was interrupted by the sound of a car horn from outside. He checked his watch and swore. _Henry_. "Bloody hell," he said. "I told him _two_ hours! Hold on --"

Mary shook her head and smiled at him. "It's all right. I must go myself. Thank you, Edward Levesque." She turned and walked off toward the back of the stage.

Edward watched her go for a moment. Then the car outside beeped again. He swore, and ran for the stage stairs.

The auditorium remained still and silent for a minute or two. The lights buzzed with the faint hum of electricity. The door to the cabinet creaked farther open in an unexpected draft, then back shut, and closed with a soft click.

Then the back door of the auditorium opened. Two people entered, a beautiful blonde woman in a blue dress and a stern blond man in a gray suit. They separated immediately, the man to the left aisle, the woman for the right, but once they reached the head of their chosen aisles, they both stopped. The woman tilted her head back and turned around slowly, while the man frowned down toward the stage.

"There's no sign of any time breach," he said abruptly. "This entire building is new. There's no leverage."

"It was built on the site of a much older theater," the woman said. "Perhaps that's it."

"No, Sapphire. It has to be something more." The man paced a little way down his aisle, then back up. "Do you sense anything?"

Sapphire shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "A little. Up there, on the stage."

The man strode down the aisle. Sapphire followed more slowly, reaching the stage just as he gave up on Edward's boxes and turned to the cabinet. "Is this it?" he asked.

Sapphire crossed the stage and laid one hand against the wood. "Partially," she said.

"What do you mean, partially? It's either a break or it's not."

"It's a breach, but a very small one," she said patiently. "Associated with that cabinet."

The man smiled for the first time, hardly more than a gleam in his eyes. "Well, then. It's easily resolved." He leaned forward to pick up the cabinet.

That was what Edward saw when he came back through the side door. "Hey! What are you doing?"

The man stepped back, and the woman turned to face him with a charming smile. "Good evening. Are you Mr. Levesque?"

"Yes, I am." How the hell had they known that? How many people had Henry told that he would be here tonight? "How did you get in here?"

"Through the door," the man said dryly.

Edward resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. He'd thought the front door was locked. Then again, he hadn't asked, any more than he'd asked if there would be any staff about. "Very funny," he said instead. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave. I was in the middle of rehearsing."

"But that's why we're here," the woman said, her smile widening. She glided forward, offering him her hand. "I'm Sapphire, and this is Steel. We're here in response to your advertisement for assistants."

"Advertisement?" Edward took her hand in confusion. He hadn't advertised. What were they -- oh, lord, now he began to remember, Henry had said something about placing an advertisement in the local paper. "Oh, yes, of course," he said. "Well, I'm sorry you've come all this way, but I've already got an assistant."

Sapphire and Steel -- their professional names, Edward supposed -- looked at each other quickly, and Steel said, "From where?"

"A volunteer from the staff here," Edward said. "Now, I'm sorry, but I must lock everything up and then go."

"At least let us help you," Sapphire said, with another of those smiles, and picked up one of the boxes. "Where shall I put this?"

"I --" Edward looked from her to Steel, who was still lingering too close to the cabinet. As if noticing this, Steel bent and picked up another of the boxes, and raised his eyebrows in silent echo of Sapphire's query. Edward sighed, and led them over to the far side of the stage, where he unlocked the closet he'd been allotted and opened it for them.

Sapphire and Steel put in their boxes, and both went back for another load. Edward turned to follow, then hesitated. Mary had gone out this way, hadn't she? Or at least come in this way. Funny, the only door he could see was this prop closet. Maybe she'd come from over by the changing room, off to the side. He hadn't been paying _that_ close attention.

A hand on his arm jarred him out of his confusion. Sapphire, of course, with a gentle look of concern. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Edward said, and smiled at her. "I, er, don't suppose you saw anyone while you were coming in?"

Sapphire glanced over her shoulder at Steel, who abandoned his examination of the cabinet and came over to them. "No, we didn't. Why?"

"Idle curiosity," Edward said, as glibly as he could. "I don't know the ins and outs of this theater very well. Well, thank you for your help, but I must be going and so must you."

"Will you be rehearsing tomorrow?" Steel asked abruptly.

What on earth? Did they think they could convince him to abandon Mary that quickly? "Look, Mr. Steel --"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Sapphire said. "Just to watch. An audience for you."

Edward hesitated only a moment. He'd risk giving away secrets -- but if they'd become his assistants, they'd have found those out anyway. And it was always helpful to have someone watch your dress rehearsal who was able to tell if you hadn't quite tucked the scarf far enough up your sleeve, so to speak, _before_ you exposed yourself to an entire audience. "If you like," he said, and bowed slightly to them both. "I'll see you out."

Steel bowed in return, and Sapphire said, "Thank you."

* * *

"Where has he gone?"

"Home." Sapphire tilted her head, eyes closed. "His manager was waiting for him. They live next door to each other in a town not far from here."

"Do _they_ know that?"

"No," Sapphire answered immediately, and opened her eyes again. She and Steel were in the green room, below the stage: she sat on one of the couches, and Steel paced back and forth. "There's no use fretting, Steel."

"I don't fret," he retorted. "When will he return?"

A moment's absentness, then she said, "In about twelve hours." She watched her partner pace for a moment, then smiled suddenly. "We might as well make ourselves comfortable. It will be a long wait."

Steel turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "We've waited longer." But he sat down next to her, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. It was at least five minutes before he murmured, "More than just a partial breach, then?"

"Like a door left ajar," Sapphire said with a thoughtful frown. "It must have slipped through only tonight."

"Does he know?"

"No. His mind is clouded. What little he does see, he rationalizes away."

Steel sat up. "If this new assistant is what we think --"

"-- then we cannot simply smash the cabinet, Steel. We shall have to find a way to force the being back through the breach first."

"Complications again," Steel grumbled, and lay back again.

"Of course," Sapphire said with a smile. "That's why they sent us."

* * *

"Mary Baker?" The girl at the box office typed something quickly, then frowned at her computer. "She's not coming up on my list, sir. Do you know what department she'd be with?"

"No," Edward said, and caught himself before he started drumming his fingers on the countertop. "Never mind, then. I must have misunderstood her. I'll just go --"

"Sir?"

Edward stopped and turned around. The girl smiled at him. "You don't have to go that way to reach the stage. The door over here --" she pointed, "is quicker."

"Thank you," Edward said, and followed her direction.

The door in question led to a short hallway and another door. When he opened the second door, Mary was standing there, smiling up at him. "Hello, Edward."

"Oh, wonderful!" he said involuntarily, then caught himself. "I mean, I was just asking at the box office about you. Do you know, they don't have you listed."

"Oh," she said, and glanced over her shoulder toward the stage.

That didn't sound very surprised. "Er. Miss Baker--"

"Mary," she said immediately, facing him again with another smile. "We should get started. The other acts will want to rehearse as well."

Of course they would, but not at 10 in the morning. They had time. "Is this all right?" he persisted. "I mean -- you're not an employee here, are you."

"No," she said, her smile momentarily flattened. Then it burst out again. "Come on! I want to know _everything_. Especially that last trick."

"Mary--"

"Come on!"

She grabbed his hand and tugged him through into the auditorium, then suddenly froze. Edward followed her gaze, and saw the couple from last night, Sapphire and Steel, up on the stage. Sapphire stood near the edge, gazing off into the empty auditorium, while Steel leaned against the cabinet, head down as if he were dozing.

"Who are they?" Mary whispered.

"Them?" Edward repeated, confused. "They go by --"

"Sapphire and Steel," Sapphire said, turning to face them. Steel raised his head and looked over as well.

Mary shrank back as if they'd pointed a gun at her. "What are they doing here?"

"Er..." What the devil was going on? "They asked if they could watch the rehearsal. They applied for the assistant job, only you'd taken it."

"Send them away!"

Sapphire cocked her head, but it was Steel who raised his eyebrows and said, "What for?"

"You don't belong here," Mary said fiercely, taking a step out from behind Edward again. "You shouldn't be here."

"And neither should you," Steel said. "How did you get here?"

Mary tossed her head. "It's a life. I can have a life again."

"But you can't," Steel said, and Sapphire said in gentle echo, "You must be reasonable."

"Reasonable?" Mary said, taking another step forward. Edward couldn't see her face, and wasn't sure he wanted to. "You'd shut me out, wouldn't you? But I won't be shut, and you can't stop it!"

"Can't we?" Steel said.

Mary whirled to face Edward. "Mr. Levesque -- Edward, please, the trick. The vanishing, with the cabinet. Please do it, please."

Edward opened his mouth, then shut it again. Right now? She wanted to do it right now, without any explanations of what she'd have to do? He'd never attempted a complicated trick straight through on the first run. He must have hesitated too long, because Mary leaned toward him, and said, in a voice he'd never have believed from that sweet face, "Tomorrow night. I'll be here then. Don't forget." Then she whirled and ran up the stairs, past Steel, and out the back door he hadn't been able to find.

"Mary!"

"She's gone, Edward," Steel said flatly, stepping away from the cabinet at last.

Edward took a deep breath. It didn't feel like it worked. "What the hell is going on?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Wouldn't understand? Who the hell was Steel, anyway? "I'm a magician --"

"You're an illusionist," Steel corrected him, coming over to the edge of the stage, staring down straight at him. "Your business is to imitate the workings of deeper forces than you can dream, surrounded by enough mumbo jumbo to confuse the minds of those observing you."

"...you're not assistants."

Steel turned away, to hide his expression, probably. Sapphire met Edward's eyes instead, and shook her head with a quiet smile.

"You're..." Who could they be, to even pretend they knew the sort of things they were claiming? "You're real magicians?"

"No," Sapphire said promptly, although Edward caught Steel giving her a sardonic look.

"Who are you, really?" Edward made himself walk forward, up the stairs onto the stage. "Who's Mary?"

"Mary is a visual refraction, a distant echo of a previous time --"

"-- a ghost."

"If you like," Sapphire agreed. "But she has been given life and purpose beyond the normal abilities of ghosts."

Edward tried to remember the ghost stories he used to read when he was a boy. "Searching for her murderer?" No, that couldn't be right.

"She's not some ordinary ghost," Steel said impatiently, and walked over to the cabinet, standing stolidly in the middle of the stage. "This trick cabinet of yours, what does it do?"

Edward hesitated, then gave in. "It's a vanishing trick. Here, I'll show you."

"Wait," Steel said, and glanced over at his partner.

As if in response to a silent summons, she came over and laid her hands on the door. The air seemed to hum with intensity for a heartbeat, but only one. Then she stepped back and said, "It's still ajar. We shouldn't risk pushing it open any further, or it would accelerate out of control."

"What's ajar?" The door to the cabinet, so far as Edward could see, was quite firmly closed.

Steel ignored the question, and said, "Describe the trick to me."

Edward looked from him to Sapphire, then did so, in very basic terms. The assistant into the cabinet, the swords, the opened door to reveal emptiness, the distraction, the reappearance.

"The vanishing isn't the problem," Sapphire said thoughtfully after a moment, still studying the cabinet "It's the reappearance that opens the door."

"We'd need to arrange a vanishing in any case," Steel said. "Otherwise that visual refraction would only return, and we couldn't be certain that the source would be anything so easily contained as a cabinet next time."

"Source of what?" Edward persisted.

Steel rolled his eyes, but said impatiently, "A time breach."

"I'm sorry?"

"A rip in the fabric of space and time," Sapphire said, turning away from the cabinet to smile at him. "It's complicated. And very, very dangerous."

Edward tried to wrap his head around this. A time breach? Oh, yes, _I'm a magician,_ he'd said, but this made no _sense_. "My grandfather's cabinet ripped open time, just by sitting on the stage?" he said.

"On that particular part of the stage, just where the old theater's stage was," Sapphire agreed. "And in just the right spot for that girl to come through. It's the combination of factors, you see. An old rhyme in a child's room on a certain night might have the same effect."

"And was a lot more difficult to contain," Steel muttered.

Edward took a deep breath and let it out. Then, before either of them could stop him, he went over to his cabinet -- his, dammit, it was his, he _knew_ this cabinet -- and laid both his hands on it the way Sapphire had done. It felt like ordinary wood.

Then it didn't. There was a soft humming, like electricity. Bloody hell, that's what all the mumbo jumbo was about, they'd done something to his cabinet! He threw open the door.

Steel slammed it closed again, and held it closed. Not that Edward was going to object. He felt...there hadn't been anything there to see, just the false bottom, and yet he still felt like he'd seen something utterly, utterly wrong in the back of his familiar old cabinet, like he'd wandered into the wrong side of one of his own magic tricks.

He forced himself to stand up straight again and cleared his throat. "I don't suppose either of you drink tea?"

"No," Steel said.

"Very rarely," Sapphire said.

"Ah." Of course not. The sort of people who could face down...whatever that had been...wouldn't need a strong cup of tea. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."

The two of them exchanged a quick look, then Sapphire smiled at him, that reassuring, calming smile of hers, and said, "We'll be here."

There was a coffee house on the corner -- ridiculously over-priced and dismal selection, but Edward didn't care. He bought himself a cup of tea, handed over his money without any flourishes, added sugar, then walked back slowly toward the theater. He had to help those two, if they even needed his help. There must be a way to fix...whatever that was. Before it was more than 'ajar'.

When he re-entered the auditorium, Sapphire and Steel were talking in low voices, while Steel examined the cabinet. The door remained thankfully closed. They stopped as he climbed the stairs.

He met Sapphire's eyes -- Steel was kneeling, half-hidden behind the cabinet - and said, "What can I do?"

"That depends," Steel said, looking at him around the corner of the cabinet. "How good an actor are you?"

 _I'm a magician,_ Edward thought, but didn't say it. No point in being that stupid twice in a morning. "Good enough," he said, and meant it.

* * *

"Will she believe it?"

Sapphire closed her eyes. "She _wants_ to believe it."

"And that will be enough," Steel said, half a question.

"Yes." Sapphire opened her eyes again, and stood up to walk about the green room, casually examining its furnishings.

"It's too easy," Steel growled

"She didn't appear only because of _his_ desire for an assistant," Sapphire pointed out, voice light as if she were trying not to laugh. "She _wanted_ to be there at least as much. Both of those desires still exist. It should be enough."

"Can you be sure?"

Sapphire turned away from the small refrigerator, eyebrows raised. "Of him, yes."

"And there is nothing we can do?"

"Only what we've already done." She abandoned the refrigerator and crossed the room to him, bending down to take both his hands in hers. "Now we must wait, and watch, until the very last moment."

* * *

First trick. Stride out onto the stage and bow to the polite applause, introduce himself, nod to the video camera, pick up his hat from the table off-center and attempt to put it on. Take it off again and pull out scarf. Attempt again, frown, take it off and pull out a few more scarves. Turn it upside down, tap it twice on the bottom as if shaking it out, then pull out scarves, chains, rope, a never-ending stream, long enough to establish the joke but short enough to still be funny. The awkward part came at the end, when he rolled up the long stream of scarf and chain and rope, and reeled his assistant in from offstage.

("Why can't we use the cabinet?" Mary had said, the previous afternoon.

"Because we're saving it for the finish."

"Wouldn't it be more symmetrical if I appeared from it in the beginning?"

Only if she were going to reappear from it at the end, Edward thought. "No," he said aloud. "Then it would be hanging there for the entire act, and distract from the other tricks." He managed a Henry-like chuckle. "What's your fascination with that thing?"

Sure enough, she lowered her eyes and murmured something about it being _mysterious_ , and dropped the subject for five minutes.)

Second trick. Patter about testing out this new assistant. Tie her up, test the knot, alas it all comes undone. Tie her up again, more elaborately this time; test the knot and the rope falls to the floor. She'll try it this time -- on him, very elaborately indeed. "That's not how it's done!" Two shrugs and a shiver, and he's free. The whole thing didn't involve anything more complicated than knowing the right knots, but it looked a proper Houdini, and the audience applauded as if he'd done something really grand.

("I never knew there were so many knots," Mary said.

"Your dad wasn't a sailor, I take it?"

Mary looked away. "No."

Edward waited a second, then opened his mouth to say, _so what does he do, then?_ He caught himself just in time. She didn't have a dad. She wasn't real.)

Third trick. Bring a volunteer up on stage, and ask them to pick a card, any card, show it to the audience, then put it back in the deck. Deck back into the box, box to the assistant, aim a small silver gun at the deck --

(Mary had come up with all sorts of business here, moving the deck at the last minute so he had to track it with the gun, and finally tell her to hold it still. She was a natural at this. Maybe she _had_ been a magician's assistant in life -- assuming she was a real ghost.

Sapphire might know. But he wasn't going to ask.)

\-- fire the gun. Take the cards back, open the box, pull out the deck, and lo, the only card with a bullet hold was the chosen card. Cue applause.

It worked perfectly. Two more tricks. Nearly to the end.

Fourth trick. "You don't seem to trust me." Here was a test of faith, then. He happened to have a small guillotine, very sharp, as he demonstrated on a pair of apples. Since his assistant seemed to doubt his abilities, she must prove she didn't by putting her wrists into the guillotine. She resisted. He insisted. "I'm a magician! I can reattach them if they come off!"

(She'd laughed, in rehearsal, when he came up with that line, a great deal harder than it deserved.

"Thank you," he said dryly.

Her smile was dazzling. "This is going to be wonderful.")

Of course -- ta da! -- her hands were perfectly safe.

("And now the vanishing?" she'd said hopefully.

"Let's save that for performance," Edward said. "It's perfectly simple. You'll know exactly what to do.")

Fifth trick. The last. The finale.

"What do you think, ladies and gentlemen? Is she any good? Should I keep her?"

Laughter. A few scattered cheers. A couple of boos. Mary tossed her head and looked indignant.

"Well, then," Edward said, turning on his heel to face her. "Not good enough, so back you go."

Mary picked up the length of coiled rope and scarves, and raised her eyebrows. "Like a fish?"

"Not exactly," he said, and turned back to the audience. He couldn't look at her, not now. "Could I have two volunteers from the audience? You, madam -- and you, sir."

He could see Mary's eyes narrow, out of the corner of his eye. This wasn't part of the vanishing trick, not as he'd practiced it, not as she'd seen it. Then the volunteers stepped onto the stage, and Mary gasped, too quietly for the audience to hear.

"Thank you," Edward said. "If you would hold her, sir? Excellent. And if you, madam, would please examine the cabinet, as thoroughly as you like."

Steel went over and took Mary by both arms, though she didn't struggle. Sapphire, meanwhile, walked all the way around the cabinet, occasionally brushing her hand against it as if accidentally. Once she was finished, she turned to him and said, "It seems perfectly solid to me."

"Thank you," Edward said again, and opened the door with a flourish. "Inside, my dear."

Steel let go of one of Mary's arms, but only one, and escorted her firmly to the door. There, she pulled free or he let her go -- Edward suspected the latter -- and stepped inside, with a furious, anguished look, and a hissed whisper: "Why did you believe them? There's nothing they can do now."

Edward closed the door without replying.

No swords, not under the circumstances. Instead, he palmed the chalk from the table, and asked his 'volunteers' to stand a bit farther away, while he circled the cabinet, marking it with the usual gibberish symbols. If this didn't work -- well, Sapphire and Steel might well have a back-up plan, but _his_ career would be ruined.

He reached the front again, took a deep breath, and said, "Goodbye!" And he slammed his fists against the front, hard.

The cabinet teetered, then majestically fell apart, the old wood and the aged nails giving up the fight at last so the sides fell outward, and Edward narrowly escaped getting hit over the head by his own cabinet. He side-stepped it just in time, and turned around and gestured as if he'd known it would do exactly that, in exactly that way.

The audience applauded madly. Edward waved Sapphire and Steel to their seats: Sapphire paused long enough to murmur, "It's gone," in his ear, and then they vanished into the darkness of the auditorium. Edward took his bows, then retreated offstage to allow the next act to set up.

Henry was waiting there for him. "Well done, my boy! Well done! Where did you find the girl? Are you going to keep her?"

"No," Edward said, and didn't look toward the stage, where the techies were gathering up the remains of his cabinet. "It was a one-time thing."

-end-

 


End file.
